Fic- His Captain and His Angel 3/22

[branwen_blaidd]

Title: His Captain and His Angel 3/22

Pairing: Jack/Ianto, Ianto/John

Rating: Adult
Spoilers: Mild for COE (background information)

Summary: Captain John Hart always gets what he wants.

Disclaimers: I own nothing.

Notes: This is the third in the series of stories about Ianto’s past. It follows Blue Moon’s Child and The Lost Son. I’ll be posting this once a day until it is finished. Special thanks go to czarina_kitty for being such a wonderful Beta. Also thanks to rowanheart24 for helping me brainstorm the original idea. Comments please!

 

 

Jack was worried. He wasn’t going to let anybody see it, especially Ianto, but every thought was about what John could be doing.

Jack wasn’t going to let Ianto out of his sight, not until they’d sorted this out. Of course, Ianto was pretending not to care, refusing to admit that the whole thing had scared him. But Jack knew him. He’d been preoccupied since it happened, hadn’t been eating well and his straightening of his tie had become compulsive. But they were carrying on working. They had to.

He hadn’t mentioned John to anyone. He’d asked Tosh to run some scans and keep Ianto under surveillance. John wasn’t going to be able to get anywhere near him.

Jack watched Ianto. He was over by the coffee machine. He’d set the machine in motion and was setting the cups out on the tray.

As Jack watched, Ianto suddenly stopped working and stared into the distance. Jack, cautiously concerned, watched him carefully.

Ianto continued to gaze into space and, at the same time, his hand began to move over a napkin. Jack got up and went over to him, wondering what on Earth he was doing.

As he got closer, he saw Ianto was doodling on the napkin. Jack stepped up behind him and touched him gently on the shoulder. Ianto jumped.

“Day dreaming?” Jack asked, noting how Ianto broke the physical contact immediately and glanced around at the others, who were taking no notice.

“Yeah, sorry.” He didn’t sound particularly awake.

Jack glanced at the napkin and frowned at the picture. He studied Ianto’s face. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look like he understood what was going on at all. But Jack couldn’t help how he felt as he glanced between the napkin and Ianto’s face. His jaw clenched, his hands fisted. He reached out and snatched up the napkin.

“Wake up, stop pissing about and get some damn work done,” he snapped.

Ianto blinked at him.

Jack pointed a finger at him.

“You’re on my time now,” he said and stalked off before Ianto had the time to reply.

Jack stormed into his office and slammed the door shut, fully aware and not caring in the slightest that everyone was watching him.

He threw himself into his chair and glared at the napkin. John Hart’s face smirked back at him in hard graphite.

As he stared at it, Jack’s anger slowly began to melt away and his mind began to work. Why would Ianto be drawing John’s face? Ianto hated John, detested even the mention of his name. He was the one person Ianto needed very little provocation to shoot. So what was going on?

He was about to get up and call Ianto in, when the door opened and Ianto came in, carrying a cup of coffee and a plate of Jammie Dodgers.

Jack smiled. “Is that a peace offering?”

Ianto’s eyebrow lifted. “It’s a way to calm you down.”

He put the coffee and biscuits down on the desk but didn’t come any closer.

“I am calm.” Jack held out a hand to Ianto. “I’m sorry.”

Ianto nodded but didn’t take the hand. Instead, he walked around to the other side of the desk and placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. His touch was firm but gentle. It made Jack feel as vulnerable as a little child but at the same time surrounded by a warm blanket of safety and softness.

“Why did you get angry?” Ianto asked.

Jack glanced down and twisted his hands in his lap. “Because of your drawing. I guess I was jealous.”

The hand twitched on Jack’s shoulder. “What drawing?”

Jack glanced up at Ianto’s frowning face. He held up the napkin. “This drawing.”

Ianto looked at it and all colour disappeared from his face. “John Hart,” he whispered. “Why have you got a picture of John Hart?”

“You drew it, Ianto.”

Ianto shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I haven’t drawn anything at all since I was a kid. I’m not…I didn’t…”

“I watched you do it.”

Ianto shook his head again, his hands beginning to shake. “I didn’t. I…”

Jack reached out and took his hand. He squeezed gently and Ianto seemed to calm down a little.

Jack stood and looked into Ianto’s eyes, still holding his hand tightly. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

“It’s not. John’s controlling my mind or something. He must be! He said he’d get me.”

“Ianto, calm down. You’re…under surveillance. I’m going to protect you. John’s not going to get anywhere near you.”

Ianto took a deep breath, blinking hard. He swallowed then managed a little smile. “I’d feel a lot better if you armed me with some indestructible armour and a turbo power alien machine gun.”

Jack smiled and pulled Ianto into a hug. Neither could escape from their worry but at least they had each other to hold through it. Jack intended to hold onto his Ianto. He wasn’t going to let John steal him away.

                                    * * *

Ianto was buried in a mountain of duvet, dead to the world. His da had already been in three times, trying to make him wake up for work.

“Ianto, if you don’t get up right now, you’re going to be in serious trouble!” his da bellowed from the doorway.

“Bugger off!” Ianto huffed from underneath his duvet.

“I know you didn’t just swear at me, Ianto Jones.” Iestyn’s voice was low and dangerous. “My da would’ve tanned my hide for behaving the way you do.”

Ianto groaned loudly. “All right, all right. I’m getting up.” He sat and glared at his da. “Before that vein in your forehead pops.”

Iestyn glared right back at Ianto. “You’d better watch your mouth, boy, or you’ll regret it,” he said, then turned and left.

Ianto got up. “Yeah, whatever,” he murmured to himself. He scratched his arse through his boxers, then padded through to the bathroom.

                                       * * *

Ianto walked in the dim morning light towards the bus stop. It was cold and he wore his hoodie over his uniform to keep warm. His hands were deep in the large pocket and he focused on the pavement as he walked, deep in thought.

He was thinking about John. He liked John. There was something interesting about him, something fascinating. Ianto wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything about him. He’d never felt that way about a person before. He usually minded his own business. But there was that something about John. Ianto didn’t even know what it was. 

There was nobody else at the bus stop when he got there. He sat down on the bench, his hands still in his pockets and waited. It was inevitable that the bus would be late. It always was. At least the lateness of the bus was something he could rely on.

“Fancy a lift?” A familiar voice reached Ianto’s ears and he looked up and saw John with his head out of the window of a shiny red Ferrari.

“Woah,” Ianto said, standing and staring at the car. “How much did this set you back?”

John grinned. “A small percentage of my cash.” He stretched his arm out of the window and patted the door. “Hop in. I’ll give you a wild ride,” he said, winking.

Ianto grinned. “Sounds great. But…I’ve got to get to work.”

“I’ll get you there in good time.”

Ianto hesitated. Some part of his brain told him it would not be a good idea but as he gazed at the big shiny car and John’s grinning face, he pushed that part aside and grinned.

“Okay.” He climbed in and shut the door behind him. Immediately, he was overcome by a thick, heavy smell. It must be the air fresher, a little yellow dice set hanging from the mirror. Had to be it. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his head.

John put the car in gear and they were off, moving quickly. John showed off with the car, showing off the acceleration and the speed.

Ianto was having the time of his life. He’d never been in such a hot car. He sat with one elbow out of the window and rocked out to the loud rock music John had put on the music system. He didn’t notice they weren’t driving in the right direction.

John patted Ianto’s knee. “Now, isn’t this better than waiting in the cold and the dark for your bus?”

Ianto let his head rest on the headrest. He closed his eyes and listened to the pounding music.

“Oh yeah!”

“Where do you work anyway?”

“Tesco’s. Stacking shelves. It sucks.”

“Blow it off then. Come on. Let’s go and do something.”

“Nah. I shouldn’t. My da would kill me.”

“Maybe some other time then.”

“Yeah, maybe. Hey mind if I smoke?”

John dug out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and passed them to Ianto. “Go ahead.”

 Ianto selected a cigarette and lit it. He leaned back, inhaling deeply and savouring the thick heady feeling which filled him.

“Fuck, these cigs are good.”

John grinned. “Yep.” He squeezed Ianto’s knee. “So, you fancy heading to the beach then?”

Ianto nodded, closing his eyes and inhaling the sweet smoke. “Oh yeah.” Ianto felt wonderful, like he could do anything, go anywhere. He was free. He was with John. Things were good.

He wanted to do so much. He wanted to do everything. He wanted to smoke and drink and fuck and just experience everything. And he knew John was going to give him that.